Alone in the Darkness
by Old Soldier
Summary: Shego's lost her memory and her glow. Injured, starving and about to be murdered, she is rescued by a tall, handsome stranger who takes her home to nurse her back to health. Do they fall in...yeah, okay...this already sounds cliche however, you might find the pairing interesting (even more so for Kim). And what does Drakken think of all this? Dark post-Lorwardian setting.
1. A Stranger

**A/N:**_ This story was originally started by a friend on DA a few years ago: unfortunately, however, he stopped after only two chapters [see my profile for the addresses__]. More recently he asked if I could finish the story for him. After an exchange of notes and emails I realized the scope of his story was broader than expected thus, with his permission, I revised the first two chapters to better reflect the pace of the plot, which met with his approval._

_The Kim Possible characters in this story were created by Bob Schooley and Mark McCorkle; _© _Disney. OC's belong to me or Storm Schutze. The cover image is by m-angela over at Deviant Art._

_I don't write for adoration; care I not for remuneration…I just write for inspiration._

* * *

**Alone in the Darkness**

Chapter One

A Stranger

It was a dark, rainy night, a night that became just another horror in her short, sporadic memory. The heavy downpour from a violent thunderstorm had quickly drenched Shego's travel-worn catsuit, matting her hip-length raven tresses and restricting the terrified woman's visibility, the strobe-like effect of the multitude of lightning flashes hindering it further; yet still she manages to run through streets that had not seen maintenance in over half a decade, skipping lithely over cracks and the odd grasping, crawling tendril of Drakkenweed. Despite her athletic build, the lack of food over the past week was taking its toll, her heart pounding and breathing ragged, all the while panic and confusion roiling in her mind as she expected the worst if caught.

Turning left, at what she thought was the next street corner, Shego collides with the hinge of a dumpster and tears open her outfit, exposing her heaving chest to the cold rain and leaving a nasty gash along her ribs; ignoring the pain as her only thought was to run. Suddenly she spots an obstacle in her way. A wall, the old worn bricks darkened by years of air pollution and covered by the clinging vine-like growths of more Drakkenweed, formed the closure of a dead end alley. A sickening wave of realization washes over her body, an inexplicable feeling that constantly haunts the back of her mind finally bursts forth into something recognizable. It was a fear, a fear of being…

"…_Trapped!" _ The terrified woman had nowhere to run; resigned to her fate Shego turns to face her pursuer.

An angry store clerk wearing a white, bloodied butcher's apron with a meat cleaver in his jittering hands stumbles into view at the opening of the alley, his legs unsteady and chest heaving uncontrollably from the exertion of chasing the fleet woman.

"Gimme the goddamn money back, bitch!" he wheezes with difficulty from the end of the alley. The thin young man, barely taller than his prey, was himself soaked to the skin, his lanky hair plastered to his anger contorted face.

She was so afraid; Shego did not even hope for salvation, believing she did not deserve it.

"I didn't steal anything, I swear, for God's sake!" Shego screamed frantically as she hunched in one corner, shaking like a leaf. Expecting to get hurt, green eyes locked on the man swinging the cleaver, a bloodstained cleaver at that.

"You can tell those lies to the cops, but don't bother telling them to me! You're just another worthless migrant! Because of people like you, I take losses every day, I should kill you, I should kill you all!" yelled the man as he raised his weapon to hit the frightened woman.

"Please, don't kill me!"

A tall man steps into the alley from the street, his face in shadow from the cowboy hat pulled low keeping the rain out of his face, the rest of his body protected by an oilskin riding duster; the tapping of his cowboy boots against the concrete walk catches the maddened clerk's attention.

Stopping beyond the reach of the rain-soaked butcher's apprentice and his cleaver the stranger eyes the weapon then directs his gaze to the drenched woman huddled in the corner of the alley as he addresses the armed man, "Y'alls got an issue needs tendin' to here mister?"

"Back off cowboy and keep movin'; I'm just dealin' with this thievin' bitch what just stole food from my store!" he replied angrily, waving his weapon in the terrified woman's direction.

"I did not! And just before you said it was money!" Shego countered.

"Shut up, you…you…green, slut, mutant**thing**!" the store clerk bellowed, "You're gonna pay for everything, **everything**, you hear me?! You'll pay with your worthless life if necessary!"

Raising the brim of his hat the stranger watches the increasingly agitated man more closely, "Jest cause ah talks fine and wearin' these fancy duds don't mean I'm necessarily a part o' that cultured corner o' society. Now, ma momma always dun taught me to be polite to a lady, and mister, y'ain't been all that polite, 'specially wavin' that cutter in her face likes that."

Unable to retreat further, Shego could only cower in the corner, attempting to control her shaking, "P-please….I didn't….I didn't steal anything."

"Oh really?!" the store clerk answered sarcastically, "If mommy and daddy, whatever they were, didn't tell you that it's a sin to lie, somebody has to do it." Raising his hand to strike the quivering woman the armed man feels a strong grip on his wrist, stopping the swing before it even gets started.

Although he was smiling politely, the stranger's voice was firm, "Glad ta see ya knows that fibbin's bad; would'a conjured yer ma and pa dun told ya at some point that hurtin' someone's worse, never minds that murderin's a lot more sinnin' than that." Narrowing his eyes he asks, "How much does she owe ya?"

The clerk, his eyes shifting around to anywhere other than at the stranger, answers after a while, "Well, 12 bucks."

"That's bullshit! I never stole anything from that store!" Still on her knees she turns her face to her apparent saviour and implores, "Please, you have to believe me!"

"Ah believes ya" he answered then growls at the butcher, "Y'all was gonna kill her over twelve bucks; thas down-raht lower'n a gopher hole ya yella-bellied sidewinder!" Quickly snatching the cleaver he flings it up onto a fire escape landing, the bottom ladder retracted well out of reach of the short clerk then releases his grip, "Y'all can come back fer it later, now git afore I lose ma manners."

With a show of righteous indignation the clerk backs away as he glares at Shego, "Just you stay outta my store. Don't you dare come around again, you green bitch, the next time I'll come out with something louder than just a meat cleaver, understand?!"

"Ah'm sure y'all won't see her 'round yer 'stablishmint ag'in, raht?" the young man asked as he looked at the girl.

Words failed her; Shego did not know what to say or do except nod in acknowledgement.

"An' ah durn well reckin I ain't gonna fancy sendin' any business yer way."

"Whatever." the store clerk huffs, turning around to tramp slowly back up the street.

"I…I don't know what to say…I…owe you….my life…." Shego stutters as fear and the cold begin taking their toll.

"Come on," the man answered, "I'll take you to a place where you can warm up and get some rest."

"Okay…let's just get out of here…please." she said shakily.

As he helped her stand the torn front of her form fitting jumpsuit slid off her shoulder exposing her torso and the rather nasty gash to her side, "Damn, you're bleeding some fierce; did he hurt you?"

Looking down Shego gasped, "Oh my god! No, he never touched me I just remember banging into something hard when I turned into the alley."

Taking off his duster he wraps it around the injured woman and procuring a hunting knife from his belt he cuts away the torn portion of her outfit, "Since your clothes are pretty well done for, take this piece I cut off, bunch it up and hold it against the wound with your arm and I'll take you home to patch you up." Scooping her up in his arms he proceeds down the street; noticing the thunderstorm had passed he looks up to see the stars coming out.

For a long while neither the man nor the exhausted woman said a word, the only noise being the dripping of water, the tapping of the young man's boots on the pavement and the distant rumble of locomotive engines across town. Over the next several minutes the injured victim, her head comfortably nestled onto her saviour's shoulder slides in and out of consciousness despite the sharp pain in her side and the overall ache in her body. Finally, Shego asks quietly,

"Sir….why did you do that?"

"I couldn't just stand there and let that man murder you."

"Uh…well, I…I didn't expect anyone…"

"…It's no big, I'm just glad I was there to help." the young man interrupted with a smile.

"Oh, believe me…not everybody. But why didn't you just leave me there? I-I mean…you've done so much for me…and the coat," Shego suddenly stiffens, exclaiming, "Oh my god, I'm bleeding all over your coat!"

"Hey, it's all good…look, we're here," he said after stopping in front of a small, tidy house. Standing her up to lean against himself he unlocks the door and leads her to the kitchen, sitting her down at the table. Leaving the kitchen for a moment he returns with towels, a green bath robe and a paramedic's kit. "Okay, try to keep pressure on your wound but I want you to take off those wet clothes and just throw them on the floor by the table then put on the robe," with that the young man did an about turn and covered his eyes.

Puzzled yet mildly amused at her benefactors apparent sense of chivalry Shego quickly compares the cold, clammy green and black catsuit she is wearing to the dry, fluffy, soft and warm looking robe and changes with enthusiasm after which she sits down, "Okay…."

The tall man turns around quickly, "Right, let's have a look…"

"…Wait a minute!" exclaimed the patient.

"Huh, wait, what, what…did I do something wrong?"

"You're not talking like a cowboy anymore."

"Oh, heh…that was just for the benefit of numb-nuts out there…you know, to throw him off if he tried to raise a stink. Here, chew on a few of these pain-killers, it'll dull the hurting somewhat so I can start stitching you up and hopefully prevent a bad scar."

Donning a pair of round wire-rim glasses he begins working, automatically assessing her physique, wondering and pondering at what he sees,_ "__**Very **__well defined muscle tone…deltoids, biceps, triceps, lats, oblique's, abs, quads…it all screams high calibre athlete…and the way she ran, if she hadn't made that wrong turn she would'a left that doofus suckin' air on his knees,"..._he smiled a sad smile, _"Kinda reminds me of someone special a lifetime ago,"…_returning his attention to his patient he ruminates some more, _"Those look like faint scars from two bullet and five knife wounds that I can see at this point…is she law enforcement, military…or criminal…callus' on her knuckles and the edge of her hands…she's accustomed to fighting" _

"Could you lift your breast a little higher for me, please and thank you?" As she cooperates the medic suddenly finds his eyes mere inches from the most perfect breast he had ever seen. Blushing furiously he attempts to avert his eyes however with little success. In an attempt to avoid blood from marring the nice bath robe Shego had moved it well away from the wound thus revealing more of her anatomy than anticipated; the result being the flustered man's attempt at being discrete with regards to her breast failed miserably as his lowered vision unexpectedly rested upon the woman's most intimate of intimate areas.

The young man takes a deep cleansing breath to steady himself and refocus on his task, _"Whoa dude, maximum composure…as in total lack of…for such an apparently timid girl she sure ain't bashful…and she acts as if this is old hat…the pain killers aren't that strong, she should be reacting to each stitch…wish you could still get butterfly stitches these days…she hasn't uttered a peep or flinched one bit…maybe she was a combat type of some sort at one time…a mercenary perhaps, there are plenty of those around now."_

Shego's initial trepidations wane as her rescuer's ministrations are executed with practised ease. As he prepared his instruments she had looked at him closely and admired what she saw, _"He_'s_ tall, I like tall, he's gotta be over six foot, broad shoulders, narrow hips…and strong, those muscles are for real, he carried me all the way here and I'm not light…sandy hair, not too long and just a little wavy on top…I like the wavy…rather boyish face, fair skin despite the tan…blue eyes and that smile…he's beautiful…not that I'd have any chance…I'm just a worthless migrant and a mutant no less…and here he is taking me in and patching up my hurt."_

It suddenly dawns on Shego the entire situation at the moment is something familiar to her, something that must have occurred often enough in her life it had imprinted itself. She could not place any particular time and place however this was something; this felt familiar and it was the closest thing to a memory of her past as she had ever had. Was it the medical attention, the young man…or both?

The medic finished his work by applying a clear spray-on bandage, _"Can's almost empty, I hope I can requisition some more somewhere…_There, this will help with the healing and allow you to wash up. Is there anyplace else you hurt?"

"You're done already? I hardly felt a thing, you're really good. Umm, my head hurts a bit right now but sometimes it hurts so bad it makes me cry and I can't see and my ears ring very painfully. And other times my skin will feel on fire and my hands will feel like they want to explode and sometimes it all happens together."

Examining her head the young man marvels at how silky his patient's hair is despite still being damp and is practically entranced by what appears to be a verdant sheen to her raven mane. It is not long before he discovers a fairly large and nasty scar that did not appear to have healed well, "It looks like you took a bad thump to the head; do you remember anything about that?"

Shego shook her head, "No, I mean I felt the scar there but I don't know how I got it."

The sandy-haired man pondered his patient's condition some more, _"Amnesia? Perhaps...the physical evidence to her body suggests a violent lifestyle yet her current demeanour seems too meek…unless she's playing me…_Well, I don't think I'm gonna let you go far tonight."

"You're not planning to invite me in… I…mean… are you?" Even if she did her best to hide it, the man did notice a shade of a hope in her voice.

"Why not, you seem to be a nice girl and after what happened tonight you could use a place to crash for the night."

"B-but…don't you think that I might rob you? I-I mean…I won't but…that store clerk…y-you know…"

"…You said that you didn't steal anything. Come on, I couldn't stand thinking about you sleeping out in the cold and wet. Now that you're fixed up you can stay at least long enough to warm up, eat something…you know…whatever."

"Well….I shouldn't…we really don't know each other…it would be…I mean I don't want to take advantage considering all you've done for me already."

"I'm inviting you to stay; it's not like you're imposing."

"I-I shouldn't, I really appreciate what you did for me but the answer is no."

Placing his hands on his hips he rolls his eyes then fixing a no-nonsense gaze on her he responds with a slight note of exasperation, "Oh, **come on**. I can't just let you leave. I'm not asking for anything, just stay for the night, take a bath and get some rest. You were practically hypothermic when I found you and judging by the complaints from your gut I'm sure you could use some food. I have food to share and clothes you can have to replace your ruined outfit. In any case you'll be safe and you won't catch pneumonia."

"I shouldn't…well…okay, one night. In the morning I'll leave and you won't see me again…" Shego responds timidly and with a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Fine, if you really want to, I can't stop you. You're free to go if that's your decision." the man answered with disappointment.

"O-okay, just one night. Thank you."

"Spankin'. Now just sit there, I'll give the bathroom a quick cleaning and bring you some dry clothes, that is, if you don't mind wearing men's clothing," the man said pleasantly, "While you're washing up, I'll make us something to eat."

"You're…you're so kind….I…I don't know what to say."

"Hey, it's no big. Knowing you won't spend the night outside is more than good enough for me."

"But why? Why are you doing all this?"

"You know, you keep asking difficult questions…well…I-I'm just following the good example of someone special I knew when I was in school," stammered the host, "Now stay there, I'll be right back."

Returning a few minutes later he gives her a bundle of clothes, "Here, I don't have any lady's things so I hope you don't mind boxers and a t-shirt…and socks, jeans…I hope you don't mind black, and you'll probably have to roll them up, and here's a shirt. The bathroom is on the second floor, go straight down the hall from the top of the stairs, third door on the right. Take your time, it'll take a while to make dinner."

"I…I don't know how to thank you."

"Hey, it's all good…just enjoy your stay here. What's mine is yours."

"But…I…I shouldn't...just filling the bath will be too much work for you; I mean do you even have enough water to fill it never mind heating it up? And food isn't that easy to get…I don't want to leave you short…cleaning the sheets after will be just more work for you…I'm not worth all that."

"Hey, it's cool, maybe you don't know where you are but we're in Lowerton, you know, part of the Tri-City area; we still have power and running water and the food sitch is better here than in many parts of the country thanks to Team Possible." Turning her around the young man shoos her up the stairs, "So go already, pour yourself a bath and I'll go make dinner for us."

Upon entering the bathroom Shego immediately locks the door then dropping the towels and clothing she lets the bathrobe slip to the floor. As soon as she had done so, she realizes the man might try to watch her somehow; covering her self up again she peeks out into the hall. Pangs of guilt hit her when she concludes her suspicions are unwarranted, hearing the clatter of pots and pans from downstairs, _"He could do anything to me, but he took me in to his own home, gave me new clothes, invited me to stay for the night, and I still assume he's an animal…what's wrong with me?" _ Locking the door again she pours a hot bath and eases into it. _"This is so-o-o nice…how long has it been …and the promise of a meal…could I ask for anything else? _Washing her hair was her first priority then as she let her self soak another feeling of familiarity came over her. _"That's twice in the space of an hour." _Shego allows a small smile to grace her visage; for the first time in a long time she actually feels safe.

About an hour later there came a knocking at the door and the young man's voice, "Is everything alright? I haven't heard anything for some time, so I thought I'd better check."

"Yeah, I'm so sorry, I lost track of time…I'll be out soon… sorry…" she replies, slightly flustered and embarrassed that she was wasting all his water.

"Hey, it's cool; it's just that dinner's ready; it'll get cold if you don't hurry up."

"Oh, I…I will, of course I will, I'm sorry it took so long, I just haven't taken a bath in ages."

"That's alright; I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Hearing the young man walk down the stairs a sheepish Shego admonishes herself, _"I should be ashamed, I'm a guest here, and I shouldn't abuse that."_

Having forgotten how slippery a wet tile floor could be Shego almost falls to the floor as she gets out of the tub too quickly; catching her self before hitting her head on the toilet. Picking up the clothes that been given her she dresses as fast as she can. Her feet luxuriate in the feel of warm, dry wool socks and although without a belt she finds the jeans settle nicely on her hips; a snug fitting white t-shirt and a green flannel shirt completed the outfit. Deeming that brushing out her hair would take too much time the freshly scrubbed guest towel-dries her hair and arranges it in loose pony tail. Proceeding downstairs she delights in the delicious aromas wafting from the kitchen wherein Shego is greeted cheerfully by her host.

"Dinner's ready, come and get it." The young man calls as he turns to greet his guest. His heart seemed to stop as he gets his first good look at his seemingly demure guest, _"Damn she cleans up nice…she looks taller than she seemed at first, maybe five-six or seven…her hair is so raven black and that green sheen seems to move around on its own…is it cosmetic or natural…there are traces of black nail polish…her skin is pale, where'd that doofus get the green from." _ Blue eyes open wide as he notices her lips are as moss, _"Oh wow_,_ and her nipple was the same colour!" _He is stunned a moment later as she raises her countenance to stare at the food on the table, her green eyes wide open in wonder, _"Whoa. Eyes. Green. Beautilicous!"_

"Oh my god! Is that all really for me?" exclaims a famished Shego when she sees the table full of food.

"Yes, of course, everything is for you…well actually there's a little bit there for me too."

Shego was too shy to just start eating right away, but the young man notices how greedily she was looking at the food.

"Don't be shy, dig in. I know you're hungry."

Starved, Shego eats voraciously, seemingly unable to stop. Somewhat amused the smiling humanitarian begins shifting extra portions in his guest's direction, sliding away empty plates into the sink. Several minutes later, when she had eaten everything in reach and practically licked the plates clean, she leaned back in the kitchen chair with an expression of pure bliss on her face. She felt so good….

"Did you eat your fill?" the man asked as he put the dishes into the sink.

"Oh yeah," she answered feeling a little self-conscious, feeling she should not have eaten so much. "It was delicious….thank you again."

"Hey, it's no big. I'm just glad you enjoyed the meal."

Picking up an old black hockey jersey he hands it the puzzled woman, "You must be tired. Sorry I don't have any lady's pyjamas to offer but you should find this comfy enough. The bedroom is just down the same hallway, but it's the second door on the left."

"I...don't know what to say….please tell me, why do you do all this? What's your angle? I'm just a migrant mutant, a worthless low-life." she said, green eyes beginning to glisten with tears.

"I just couldn't leave you alone. You can stay here as long as you want."

"But how….how am I supposed to repay the favour?"

"It's all free. You don't have to pay anything."

"Wait; hold on," Shego said shakily, "If there's something that I've learned while living out there is that there's no such a thing as a free lunch. Come on, tell me what you want. I don't have any money… and I'm, well, I'm not… a freeloader, if you're even thinking of that."

"Okay, you got me."

Shego's blood immediately ran cold and she began trembling, "Don't you dare…don't you dare touch me!" she hissed quietly.

"All I'm asking is for your friendship." he said.

"Are you deaf? I told you, I'm not like that!" she answered anxiously, her defiance not quite coming through, clasping her hands, in the meantime, as though they hurt.

The young man's hands began frantically waving in front of himself as blue eyes widen in panic, his face blushing fiercely with sudden understanding, "**No**...oh wow no…not **that**kind of friendship…I-I-I-I'm just lonely," sheepishly rubbing the back of his head he continues, "I-I just don't have anybody to talk with. Don't be afraid, it's not like I'm a perv or anything. Stay here as long as you want, treat yourself the way you deserve."

Her eyebrows attempt to migrate to her scalp, "Well…nobody…I mean, I never felt like I deserved anything before…at least not that I can remember." Shego said, all the while massaging her hands.

With concern in his eyes the sandy-haired man notices the woman appearing to be in pain, "What's wrong, you seem to be hurting. Is it your hands?"

"Whenever I get stressed it seems my hands start to hurt, like they want to explode; sometimes it's not so bad and other times, like when I feel really angry it gets really bad."

Reaching into his medic's kit on a nearby chair the young man retrieves a small jar and hands over a couple of pills that appear different than the ones he gave her earlier, "Take these before going to bed, they should help."

"I don't want to take all your medicine."

The young medic poured some tea for the two of them, "It's no big, I can get more. So, what's your name?"

"What's **your**name?" replied Shego cautiously.

"Come on, I asked you first."

"Actually, I don't remember." she said sadly.

"Really? Not at all?"

"I know I must have a name but for some reason I can't remember past maybe three or four days ago, maybe a week, I think; sometimes I seem to forget how I got somewhere or what happened to the last few hours that just went by. Anyway, I took a name from a really old magazine I found. So, for now, I'm going by Katie Sheridan, that is, until I forget again and I have to pick a new one. At that point I'll have forgotten who you were and what you did for me."

"Katie Sheridan? Are you for real?" smiled the young man, "That's the name of Felicia's quiet but beautiful best friend on Agony County. Not that I really watched the show back then, you know, I just tuned in sometimes to stay current." Looking at Shego more closely he adds, "Actually, ya know, you kinda look like her…only prettier."

The sudden silence was deafening, the young man could feel his whole body flush with embarrassment, his face hot. He could see his guest glance away demurely, her pale face itself taking on a pale green blush. "That was my outside voice, wasn't it," he ventures with a whisper.

Shego nods silently.

He rubs the back of his neck nervously, "Well, this is awkwierd."

After a few more moments of silence Shego clears her throat lightly, "So, what's your name then?"


	2. A Haven?

******Alone **in the Dark**ness**

Chapter Two

A Haven?

* * *

"My name's Walter, Walter Nelson."

"Are you from around here?" asked Shego.

"Well, my mother's side of the family is named Keller. They moved to Montana from Switzerland. My mom married a Nelson and they moved to Middleton where I was born. When I finished middle school we moved to Go City. I lost my parents during the alien attack, so I moved to the old homestead in Montana to stay with my grandparents."

Walter continued, "I'd just graduated highschool and looking forward to attending Middleton Institute of Science and Technology in the fall. Of course, the alien attack and the ensuing 'Big Reality Check' put a hold on that idea so I volunteered to be a paramedic to help with all the sick people during the ensuing 'Starvathon' those first couple of years. When things settled down somewhat I became a sort of roving doctor, moving around on horseback the past five or six years to help folk in the Montana back country. All in all I'm what's left alive in my whole family. Anyway, I ran into this rancher who's the uncle of a girl I used to know and he told me that the Middleton Space Centre is ready to launch rockets again and they're looking for anybody with the qualifications or at least the aptitude to build payloads. So I put my name in and I moved into my older brother Ricky's house here in Lowerton for the time being. If I'm accepted they'll move me into a place in Middleton close to the Centre."

With a heavy sigh he looks at his guest, "I guess it goes without saying you don't remember your family or your home."

Shego merely cast her eyes down and nodded mutely.

"Hey, don't get too down about it. I think I know some people who might be able to find out for you one way or another; I'd be glad to help out any way I can." Walter said with encouragement.

"You would?"

"Of course, how could I refuse to help such a charming woman?"

Reaching across the kitchen table she places her hand atop his, "You're…you're the nicest man I've ever met."

Walter smiles and shrugs casually, "Aww, it's no big, but thanks."

Contemplating for a moment she continues, averting her eyes in embarrassment, "Actually, you're the only nice person I remember ever running into at all lately."

"Heh, way to validate the compliment," he responds with a wry smirk.

Suddenly realizing she may have insulted her benefactor, Shego attempts to apologize however a very unsubtle yawn suddenly interrupts; embarrassed she clamps her hands over her mouth, "Wow, I guess it's time to hit the sack, if you don't mind."

"Not at all." Escorting his guest to the stairs he adds, "Second door on the left. Good night Katie, I'll see you in the morning."

Clutching her old clothes in one hand and the hockey jersey to her chest Shego walks up a few steps then turning around gazes with sleepy eyes at her host, noting the unassuming young man giving her a small smile of encouragement accented by friendly, blue eyes and the hands waving to shoo her up the stairs to bed, "_He's so beautiful." _Stifling a small yawn she resumes her trip to bed.

Upon entering the room a sleepy Shego instinctively examines the room's security; a behaviour which to her seems prudent on an inexplicably persistent, compelling and inherently physical level. The incessant state of hyper-alertness, so far a constant feature of her existence, felt familiar; since it felt familiar it must be something she had done before…a lot…and in a way it was a memory of sorts and that comforted her.

Noting the door had no lock she spies and collects a plastic comb that she jams between the top of the door and the doorframe upon which she balances a small bowl with some coins; opening the door would now make noise. Shego drags a large heavy rucksack from the end of the bed to lie in front of the door to slow its opening; Shego now had a little extra reaction time if someone tried to enter through the door. The window could be secured; however, before drawing the curtains closed she gazes briefly out to a dark and apparently quiet backyard, noting points of concealment and escape routes. Glancing around to what she could see of the neighbourhood she is awestruck; whereas the street at the front, despite the multitude of boarded up houses and overgrown yards, seemed relatively normal, the rear was the opposite. Even in the darkness, all she could see for several square blocks was a veritable scrap yard of disabled alien battlewalkers…"_what did they call themselves"…_collapsed on the ground, each thoroughly wrapped in a tangle of Drakkenweed. Over to her far right she could just make out a crane and some trucks huddled around one of the alien machines.

Quickly scanning the bedroom she takes in the double bed with a cosy-looking quilt on it, a night table, and a highboy dresser with some sundry items. However, what captured her attention for several minutes was a dog-eared five by seven photo of a pretty twelve or thirteen year old girl with red hair and big green eyes atop the dresser. For several minutes Shego felt drawn to it and had a difficult time tearing herself away from it. A full length mirror standing next to the dresser, an acoustic guitar beside it and an open closet completed her inventory of the bedroom.

Investigating the closet the curious guest discovers that although all the clothing appears to be male, most of them had been pushed to one side with only a few items hanging by themselves in the middle of the closet. Of great interest was a blue jumpsuit with several pockets on it; although sturdy looking it had obviously seen some serious use, there being several repairs evident. On the shoulders were insignia patches reading 'Big Sky Search and Rescue - Emergency Medical Technician' under each was a small banner reading 'Volunteer' and the breast of the outfit sporting a black nametag with Nelson stitched in faded gold. Beside that was an equipment harness. On the floor of the closet was a sturdy pair of hiking boots that had seen hard use. Beside the boots was a sleeping bag, pup tent, climbing gear and rope, with the rucksack out by the door obviously part of the set.

Yawning again Shego moves to drop herself on the bed then stops. She thinks about how she had had to sleep in her form fitting outfit since she had nothing else to wear; it certainly had not been designed to keep her warm. Now she stopped and stared at the bed which promised comfort she could not recall experiencing in her short memory. Remembering the jersey in her hands she brings it up to her face and inhales deeply, absent-mindedly tossing the still damp green and black outfit into a corner; the jersey had Walter's scent to it which she found comforting. After staring at the door for several minutes she decides to succumb to temptation and trust. Hurriedly stripping her self naked to don the jersey as a nightshirt Shego dives into the inviting bed, falling asleep barely moments after drawing the quilt to her chin.

* * *

After making sure Katie made it up the stairs safely and deciding the dishes could wait till the morning Walter secures the house. Upon hearing the late evening warning siren in the distance he turns off the main breaker on the electrical panel; a few minutes later a second sounding presaged the powering down of Lowerton's electricity grid, plunging the town in darkness except for the streetlights. One by one he could make out the deep rumble of the locomotives in the marshalling yard on the other side of town cease as the engines were shut down from generating electricity for Lowerton to receive their nightly maintenance. Proceeding to the front hall closet he retrieves an old army Garand sniper rifle with its original scope and a .45 calibre semi-automatic pistol from its holster hanging from the cross bar.

He remembered a few winters before, while on his way to a small trading post, stumbling across the frozen body of a trapper who had apparently fallen down a steep gulch. It appeared the man had attached a note to his parka …

…_~"I Jeremiah Johnson, being of sound mind and two broken legs do bequeath to whomever finds my dead body, my Garand sniper rifle, it's real good for hunting with, and a .45 pistol, along with all the ammo and whatever supplies are intact. If you can bury me it would be appreciated but not necessary since I'll probably be eaten by then."~…._

Next to the holster hung a rescue dog's harness. He had had a female Golden Lab from the time she was a pup. Kimmie was her name, his four-legged sidekick for four years; he sadly remembered her death by a rock avalanche in the back country two years before. Loading both weapons and engaging their safeties he places them on the floor beside the couch. Making up the couch for sleeping Walter kicks off his boots as he makes himself comfortable for the night holding the pistol in his hand under the coverlet. As he relaxed Walter ruminated on the evening's events….

"_She seems to be suffering from amnesia probably from whatever caused that nasty scar to her scalp…anterograde symptoms very evident during supper which tends to validate the apparent retrograde amnesia…transient global amnesia not likely anymore but gotta watch for it…oh man, and then there's the mood swings to expect …still, she seems accustomed to pain…even tired she moves with graceful strength and…wow… those intensely green eyes seem to have some exotic look to them…maybe a little Asian influence…perhaps Latina…obviously older than me but not much more than early thirties…but there's something about who she is, something important that rings a bell…damn, damn, damn, I wish I could remember what that was...it's like it's just on the edge of my mind…"_ Walter pinched the bridge of his nose, "_…and I bet I'll feel like a moron when I figure it out."_

As he slowly drifts off to sleep, a final thought crosses his mind, _"Haven't had anyone for near on seven years…gets lonely at times…hell, who am I kidding, it gets lonely a lot…never could find a girl who matched Kim…this woman's so beautiful…wonder what she's like outside the amnesia…would I like her…would she like me…heh, wouldn't it be something if I end up falling for an older woman…or did I already?"  
_

* * *

The pre-dawn light showing through the curtains woke Shego up; as was her custom she lay still with her eyes closed, feigning sleep as her other senses took stock of her surroundings. Satisfied there was no immediate threat she appraised her physical condition, or counting bones as she liked to put it. Despite a solid and peaceful sleep her body still aches from a pernicious fatigue that plagues her constantly; it would take a little while before she could move without too much pain. Her headache was mild this morning, her hands did not pulse in agony as they were wont to do all too frequently and her skin did not feel as if it were on fire. The stitched up gash to her side throbbed only slightly and most encouraging of all was that she remembered the entire previous day's events, especially the actions of a very kind young man, "_Wow, that makes eight days straight…I think…."_

Allowing herself to relax, Shego revels in the pleasant feeling of lying under a warm, thick, quilt. After all she went through the night before it was nice to wake up in a soft bed within a quiet room instead of outside somewhere in the wild or in a drafty abandoned building. Still she knew she would have to leave all of this soon, that it was her first and last night in this house, ever.

Even as every square inch of her body aches, she slowly gets up, hissing in pain and annoyance; doffing her night shirt Shego stretches naked in the middle of the room, being mindful of the fresh stitches in her side. Discovering the bedroom light would not work she decides to open the window curtains, still too sleepy to worry about peeping toms and, after all, the sun was not even quite up yet. Grabbing a hairbrush from the top of the dresser she is again drawn to the photo of the young girl. Curious, Shego turns the photo around to find a note written there,

_...~"Summer 2001. To the best boyfriend in the world. Best of luck in Go City. I'll never forget you. Live well. Maybe we'll meet again someday and carry out our promise to each other. All my love. Kimmie."~..._

It is several minutes before Shego manages to pull herself away from staring at the photo and walks to the full-length mirror, examining her self as she begins brushing out her long tresses. Besides the few scratches and the gash to her side from the night before, _"He did a good job stitching, I might not get a scar out of that one," _there was the collection of scars from obvious knife and bullet wounds. All of them save last night's injury and one other, she could not remember how they had been inflicted and, to her dismay, even her face sported a small assortment of very faint scars.

Examining her self closely in the full length mirror for the first time since she could remember Shego disparaged at her appearance, _"I've got such a wide ass and my thighs are so fat…and my boobs hang down like big dead water balloons…and my eyebrows look like big fuzzy caterpillars…my skin goes from pasty white in the light to glowing green in the dark…my hair is green, my lips and nipples are green, my privates are green and a teenage girl probably has more pubic hair than I do…I __**am**__ a fucking mutant!"_

Shego then remembers something from after supper, something pleasant that sends warm, fuzzy feelings through her insides. Looking at herself coyly in the mirror she wraps her arms around herself, pushing her breasts together, enhancing their cleavage, _"Walter thinks I'm pretty…and he's so the total macho hotness and a complete sweetie…does he think I'm girlfriend material?" _she smiled brightly at the thought, _"…that would be so perfect…" _then just as quickly her mood sobered, _"…but I don't deserve him."_

Moving to her clothing Shego first picks up the green pouch she had been wearing on her ankle; she was not sure of its significance, however she felt keeping it to be very important. Opening it she examines the contents: some were recognizable; black lip stain and nail polish; three extraordinarily stout nail files; a handful of condoms and some money. The curious items were two key rings each with a strange assortment of small, well-worn tools obviously meant for some form of delicate and precise work. There was a small collection of plastic and metal cards each sporting curious patterns of embossing and punch-holes. Lastly was a small blood-encrusted survival knife, and to her consternation, a few pieces of beef jerky, _"Those weren't there yesterday morning!"_

Shego remembered, with a shudder, her oldest memory to date; she had awakened one morning in pain from that knife sticking in her right side just under the ribs. Glancing down she could still see the now fading scar, "_Why am I not surprised this has healed so quick?" _The weapon had still been in the grip of the dead man lying in front of her, his throat ripped out, realizing a few moments later the missing portion of his throat firmly grasped in her blood-covered left hand. Then she pondered the dried meat, "_I don't remember when I got this…oh god, did I actually steal from that butcher shop…was that man justified in chasing me…I don't even remember being in there, I only remember being chased." _In her mind, Shego grimly concluded, "_I __**am**__ a worthless, thieving migrant."_

Then suddenly, she starts thinking about her benefactor and his proposition. He was a genuinely nice guy. When one is as beautiful as Shego is, genuine kindness is rare since most of the time a guy just wants to get between her legs. And he saved her life_, "No. I just can't take him up on his offer to stay...he's such a great guy…I mean, what if I get my memory back and it turns out that deep down I'm some cranky smart-mouth, prone to excessive violence…I'd be betraying his kindness and that wouldn't be fair to him…I'll just head back out on the street like I said I would…anyway, I'm not worthy of being loved_…_not by him."_ Slowly Shego turns away from the mirror and sits on the bed, despair building as tears stream down her pallid face. She did not want it to happen, _"Oh please, don't let him start crushing on me!"_

_"Yes; he fed me, he dressed me, he let me take a bath and even spend the night in his own house…he saved my life…he didn't ask for money or any other settlement...he's not creepy…I feel safe around him." _ Shego's eyes wander to the closet to rest upon the medic's uniform hanging there and a realization hit her, _"You fucking drama queen, of course he'd help you, it's his job…you're no one special, you're just another patient to him!" _

Shego lay back down on the bed, covering her naked body with the quilt. Depression overwhelming her she begins sobbing uncontrollably, shivering both because of her sadness and the early morning chill in the house. A little over an hour later the distraught woman's sobs begin to subside; drawing the back of her hand across her nose she is shocked to see it covered in blood, _"Oh my god, a nosebleed! I've got another headache coming. If I don't get outta here he'll insist on my staying to care for me._ _I need to hurry!"_

She dresses quickly in the new clothes that Walter had given her. Her old ones were so ragged that they could barely be called threads anymore and the strange green and black pattern was too distinctive in any case, although the boots were still serviceable. Shego is pleased to see the ankle pouch fit neatly under her pant leg. Checking to see if the hallway was empty and deeming it safe, she carefully pads down the stairs, clenching her jaw at every step. She was getting worried, shooting pains were affecting the flexibility in her joints and the headache was becoming distracting. Upon entering the living room, it seemed as though a haze was dropping over her vision as the headache worsened. Barely able to see Shego was incredulous to discover Walter had slept on the couch, _"He even gave me his own bedroom…he let me sleep in a warm bed while he slept on the couch, with only a coverlet…he trusted me not to rob, or even murder him."_

Shego had barely made it to the door when her body felt as if it had been skewered by a lightning bolt of pain, eliciting a short, piercing shriek that startled Walter rudely awake in time to see his guest collapse unconscious to the floor.

"Katie!" Dashing to her side Walter is aghast to see the serious nosebleed, however he is relieved to see her panting, indicating she was breathing freely on her own.

With barely a thought and pretty well working on instinct, he presses three fingers against a carotid artery to gauge her pulse. A moment later he yelps, withdrawing his now painful fingers. Upon examination he is amazed to see first degree burns on his fingertips; carefully passing his other hand over Shego's body he is astonished to discover her skin to be as hot as an iron.

* * *

Wearing surgical scrubs with the facemask hanging down around her neck, the tall, slim woman enters a private hospital room at the start of her rounds. Although technically a neurosurgeon much of her service over the past seven years had focused more on general practice including the treatment of malnutrition, disease control and more recently and disturbingly, radiation sickness from fallout; in any case however her expertise in treating head trauma was exercised often enough. Dr. Anne Possible was now in charge of Middleton Medical Centre; however, the scarcity of trained medical personnel meant she spent more time on the floor than the office.

Anne had always had a slim figure; however the privations over the past few years had made their mark. Although still only in her early fifties, her figure was not so much willowy any more as gaunt, her cheeks a little sunken and although the blue eyes still held a bit of a twinkle the bags under her eyes and the pronounced crows-feet around them were testimony to the horrors they had witnessed. The trademark red hair was being replaced by dull, brown tresses with the odd white strand beginning to make their appearance.

She had barely picked up the patient's chart when she heard Tara's chipper voice down the hall, "Morning daddy Possible, any word from Kim and Ron?"

"Good morning my dear. Kimberly just called a little while ago; she and Ron are fine and send their love," Anne subsequently heard heard her husband say, then smiled at him as he walked into the room,

"Hello dear, how are things today?"

James' physical appearance mirrored that of his wife's except his hair was a solid mass of grey and sported a trim grey beard. With a bit of a lopsided smile he responds, "Hi hun. Oh, pretty good. So how's Drew?"

Anne answered with a note of optimism, "Well, remember how we couldn't get an x-ray to give us an image of his head injury; we still don't know why since it works on other patients; and decided to just fix him up old school? Well, once he was stable his vines started growing and wrapped themselves around him. It was Tara," Anne smiled broadly, "she's my new head nurse by the way,…"

"…Good for her…" James responded cheerfully.

"…who suggested recently moving Drew closer to the window to give his flowers more daylight along with a trice daily sponge bath. Well that did the trick and he's progressed better in the last week than I could ever have expected considering his injuries and how much radiation he took which, by the way, we have no idea how he survived that. Anyway look here around his neck, he's growing yellow petals; they're small but I'm taking that as a good thing."

"Outstanding! Oh, and Kimmie-cub just called about an hour ago from Denver. She says her and Ronald will be there a few more days guarding the Pan-Dimensional Vortex Inducer while the scientists are setting it up to kick-start the new cold fusion reactor. Anyway she asked about Drew and if there was any word of Shego."

At that point the conversation was interrupted by Sheriff Hobble's rather inelegant entrance to the room, his feet tripping him into the door as his attention seemed drawn down the hall, "Top of the morning to ya Anne, James," the large law enforcement officer greeted somewhat distractedly in his trademark Irish brogue.

"Good morning Sean," Anne giggled, "You're not ogling my new head nurse now; are you?"

"I assure you ma'am that I don't ogle on duty. However, that is not to say I can't notice how one of your nurses seems to deport herself in the most angelic demeanour imaginable and, in any case, I'm sure any inappropriate behaviour on my part would result in Kimberly inflicting twenty kinds of hurt just on one hand alone."

The sheriff continued on with more focus, "I brought ya some news I figured you'd be interested in. First off, a ranger patrol reports the fallout zone from that nuke that took out Lipsky's lair has shifted and caught a number of homesteaders off guard. I expect there'll be a bunch of people with radiation sickness showin' up on your doorstep within a few days. The other one'll probably interest you more since ya been worryin' about her; there was a positive sighting of Shego in Lowerton last night."

* * *

**AN:**_ Anterograde amnesia: _Short term memory loss. Information does not get passed on to the long term memory. Events of any duration can be completely forgotten almost immediately after they occur. The same question can be asked repeatedly because the question and subsequent answer had already been forgotten. Or, extended periods of time can be forgotten resulting in confusion when a 'couple of hours' appear to have been 'lost'.

_Retrograde amnesia:_ Long term memory loss often stemming from a traumatic head injury. Often starting from just before the injury occurred, it can extend the entire lifetime of the victim. Events learned through physical repetition: walking, running, swimming, dialling a phone, riding a bike, and driving a car are remembered. Abstract knowledge is suppressed: names, faces, dates and events. For example, the sensation of walking through the surf at a beach would be remembered however the memory of any particular visit to any beach would not. Speech and language skills can be affected but will improve with use. Recovery usually begins with the oldest memories first and proceeding to the more recent ones. Kim's memory recall in "Clean Slate" appears to follow this pattern.

_Transient global amnesia: _A combination of the two symptoms above however for only a temporary period.

* * *

_The Kim Possible characters in this story were created by Bob Schooley and Mark McCorkle; _©_Disney. OC's belong to me or Storm Schutze._

_~~I don't write for adoration; care I not for remuneration…I just write for inspiration.~~_


End file.
